Plush
by Emy.Elle
Summary: Derek gets a present. FLUFF so much of it you'll want to barf.


**Author's notes: I saw this cute drawing on tumblr and this came out of it. jannelle-o dot tumblr dot com slash ****post/95046427926/oops-drew-derek-with-that-wolf-plush-again-u. **

**It's just a silly cute drabble. and I just want that toy, ok?! *facepalms***

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Derek walks into the loft to find a big box, about knee height, wrapped up in black paper with a bright blue ribbon on top sitting dead smack in the middle of the floor. Derek frowns at it but calmly closes the door behind himself and cautiously walks to the box.

Not many people have access to his loft, Derek thinks; and not many people would dare come to a werewolf's home without invitation. But then again not many people are Stiles. The box smells - reeks - of Stiles. It has a note attached to it. A small growl escapes Derek's lips as he approaches and picks up the note.

_Happy Birthday, Sourwolf._

Derek frowns further. "It's not my birthday." Derek mutters. "And I'm NOT a Sour Wolf..." He adds quietly to himself as he puts the note down on the floor and sits down crossing his legs. He ponders if he should open the box or just pick it up as it is and throw it at Stiles' head the next time they meet. The look on Stiles' face would be priceless. But, Derek thinks, that would break Stiles' heart. After all - mom always said it's not nice to refuse a gift. Derek sighs, curiosity getting the better of him as he slowly, ever so slowly, lifts up one hand to pull at the neatly tied bow. It gives away easily, the soft material falling away from the box and onto Derek's open hand. The color is the same shade as Derek's beta eyes, he notices, belatedly. A smile forms on his face at the thought of the small detail Stiles had for him.

"This is stupid..." Derek tries to control himself when his heart starts to race like he'd been running for five hours straight through the roughest patch of the Preserve. "It's just a stupid box with a stupid gift for my stupid not-even-birthday..." He tries and fails to convince himself. Derek knows it's so much more. It means so much more. His heart already knows. Just his mind won't catch up. It will not catch up.

Derek pulls the lid off the box and peeks inside.

There, cradled with care, is a plush dark grey wolf - so much like Derek's alpha form, it's frightening - with a blue and green checkered scarf around his neck. Derek gasps. The toy is flooded with Stiles' smell as if... as if... as if Stiles had slept with the toy or... or... maybe the scarf... Derek takes a whiff of the scarf. Yes. It is part of Stiles' favorite plaid shirt. Derek can smell the depth to which Stiles' scent has impregnated the cloth. He can see the rip in the material where Stiles tore it away from his shirt... But why? Why would Stiles sacrifice something he loved for Derek's sake? Why?

Derek picks up the toy and holds it at arm's length, looking into its beady eyes. Blue. The toy's eyes. They're blue. Like Derek's... The toy... Stiles gave him a plush version of his own wolf with a scarf that... no... that's like being claimed... it can't be... Stiles must not realize what he gave Derek. He must not know that he just not-so-subtly claimed Derek's image as his own. He surely must not know what it does to Derek's inner wolf to see this. He surely must not know how hard Derek has to work with himself right now to keep from howling for his mate. However, a low whine still escapes Derek's iron-clad control as his wolf makes him hug the toy to his chest like the most precious of possessions. He knows his eyes are glowing bright blue, like the toy's. He knows he's whining to be claimed just like the toy in his arms, but control is slipping one tiny inch at a time.

Something small and white gives Derek back some of the control. He breathes in deeply, Stiles' scent invading his lungs. He holds his breath, like the scented air is something precious, something to be treasured. He holds his breath until it hurts and then exhales slowly feeling stupidly sorry at the loss of Stiles' scent from his body. But his control is back and Derek pushes away his wolf, makes his eyes stop shining blue, makes himself put the toy down, makes himself take a closer look at the white thing that caught his attention.

It's a piece of paper. It smells like Stiles. Derek looks at it carefully, half afraid of what it may say. He swallows against the knot in his throat and reaches carefully for it, unfolds it. A neat script covers the tiny paper.

_Hope you like mini-Derek, Sourwolf. I got him for you to keep you company while the pack and I are away at college. I even gave him something of mine, to make him feel more part of the pack. Don't miss us too much. ;) _

Stiles wrote down a winky-face emoticon. Derek is outraged. A winky-face. I a note. Not a text. A note. A God damn winky-face! After putting him through emotional hell! After making his wolf howl inside of him! After making him almost shift in the middle of the loft! A winky-face! Derek growls as his wolf whimpers again. A sudden burst of laughter rips from his chest.

"A stupid winky-face..." Derek whispers as he gets up from his spot on the floor, gently cradling both the toy - mini-Derek - and the note. He moves without thinking, placing mini-Derek on the bed and the note on his night stand, gently caressing it. "You don't know what you've done, you idiot..." He tells the note, as a replacement for Stiles. "You don't know what you've done..." Derek shakes his head and moves to the kitchen to make himself something to eat before his wolf has the time to make him do something stupid. Something stupid like running straight to the Stilinski household and kissing the stupidity out of Stiles.

The night finally falls on Derek reading the book Kira recommended last week on noghitsune lore. His eyes have shifted blue some time ago, when light had gotten too little for human eyes to keep reading, but now they're closing on their own, so Derek stands from his favorite reading spot against the window and goes to bed almost on autopilot. He's too sleepy to do anything but throw his shirt over his head, grab mini-Derek, hug him closely and burrow his nose in Stiles' scent.

It's the first night in a long time when Derek sleeps restfully and has good dreams.

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**First T rated story on my profile - oh man! - I'm going soft *hides under blankets***


End file.
